Praise Of A Collie

She was a small dog, neat and fluid -
Even her conversation was tiny:
She greeted you with bow, never bow wow.

Her sons stood monumentally over her
But did what she told them. Each grew grizzled
Till it seemed he was his own mother's grandfather.

Once gathering sheep on a showery day,
I remarked how dry she was. Pollochan said "Ah,
It would take a very accurate drop to hit Lassie."

And her tact - and tactics! When the sheep bolted
In an unforeseen direction, over the skyline
Came - who but Lassie, and not even panting.

She sailed in the dinghy like a proper sea dog.
Where's a burn? - She's first on the other side.
She flowed through fences like a piece of black wind.

But suddenly she was old and sick and crippled...
I grieved for Pollachan when he took her for a stroll
And put his gun to the back of her head

By       Norman MacCaig

I heard this poem read on NHPR on my way home last night and almost veered off the road. I was numb from work and the jolt of emotion staggered me.

It says it all. The relationship between pet and pet owner, the love and respect, the mutual understanding, the recognition of a unique personality, and the pain of deciding when they die. A decision we are not deserving of. Because our pets are wiser than us.

I have been involved in the death of three pets.

With Onyx, our sweet, loving dog, it caught me off guard.  It was my first time putting a pet down. I thought the vet said he would give him a shot to relax him and then administer the final shot. Turned out it was a one shot deal and he was gone before I was prepared for it. I was stunned. I went home and got drunk and cried.

Witk Lokai, our spiritedly individual cat who used to swat Onyx's nose if he got too familiar, I don't remember the circumstances but I do remember not feeling satisfied, feeling like I didn't handle it properly. I do remember Carol's tears when I walked back into the house without Lokai.

With Max, my cat buddy who only let me pick him up, I got down on my knees next to the table he was on so I could look into his eyes. I was determined that he know I was there at the very end. I stroked his head, looked him right in the eyes and told him over and over that I loved him. When his eyes closed I broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably. So much so that they ushered me out the back door of the vet's office.

I don't apologize for that. I am not embarrassed. I am proud to have finally said goodbye properly.

Each time I felt unworthy of making that decision. The pain of those three experiences ranks right up there with any pain I have experienced.

But I cannot dwell on their deaths. What I think about is the sweet, innocent relationship that developed between us. The way they made us laugh, the rock solid love they gave us and we returned to them. The sense of peace and contentment they magically, effortlessly graced our home with.

I never want to be without pets. Pets complete us, they dig out our humanity from deep under the charade. Directly honest and powerfully loving, completely trusting.

All that and a sense of humor too.

(Editor's note dated 01/19/2013 - I am driven to make the following chronological correction, lest my family write me off as prematurely senile, if they haven't already done so. Lokai was the first pet I was forced to put down. Then Onyx. Then Max. However I refuse to change the narrative. I will live with my imperfection.)